“He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. Go to her, I say, and take her in your arms, you poor benighted Ironsides! I can't make you see. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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